


Holy Mackerel!

by AudaciousBeans



Category: Free!
Genre: Firefighter!Makoto, Future Fic, M/M, a little warm-up for my other fic, chef!haru, cop!Sousuke, fireman!makoto, future fish, honestly I started this just to get back into the swing of writing again
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2015-03-26
Updated: 2015-03-24
Packaged: 2018-03-19 12:00:07
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,817
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3609327
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/AudaciousBeans/pseuds/AudaciousBeans
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>He looked down at Makoto’s hand, his eyes narrowed in amusement.</p>
<p>“Haruka Nanase,” the other man rasped in return, taking his hand and shaking it. “You can just call me Haru, though. And you should stop by the restaurant whenever we get it back up and running. I’ll have to prepare something special for my hero.”</p>
<p>Makoto looked away and smiled sheepishly, feeling himself blush a bit. He reached his hand up and began rubbing the back of his neck.</p>
<p>“Yeah, maybe I will,” Makoto grinned as he looked back up at Haru. “See you around then?”</p>
<p>“I better.”</p>
            </blockquote>





	Holy Mackerel!

**Author's Note:**

> Ah yes a super original MakoHaru fic featuring dashing fireman Makoto and (possibly cheeky?) chef Haru. I haven't written in a while, so I started this before diving back into my other MakoHaru fic, [ SandCastles](http://archiveofourown.org/works/2339387/chapters/5156528). If you like this one, maybe check that one out too, yeah? 
> 
> Anyways, I'll work on this whenever I hit a wall with SandCastles. How far will it go? Who knows. If people like it though maybe I'll pay more attention to it....

The sirens wailed as the firetruck and its following entourage of emergency personnel raced up to the burning restaurant. A group of frazzled and tittering people stood nervously outside the Holy Mackerel!. Makoto hopped off the truck and started directing people away from the smoking building.

“Everyone, please remain calm and go over there! Is everyone okay?” When there was no immediate response, he asked, “Are there any people still left inside?”

As the group shuffled further away from the action, allowing the firemen to handle the flames, paramedics from the ambulance ran up and started checking out employees and those who had had their dinner interrupted.

A younger woman who must’ve worked in the kitchen answered Makoto’s second question.

“I think Chef Nanase is still inside! I didn’t see him run out with the rest of us…”

Makoto called out a thank you and ran into the building with a couple other firemen who were making their way into the restaurant with hoses. He donned his breathing mask and helmet, ready to brave the fire. Luckily the fire hadn’t seemed to have engulfed the whole structure yet, but there was an inordinate amount of smoke. Makoto ran ahead, scanning the area for people who may be hiding under tables or just frozen in place, and saw no one. He spotted the doors at the back which undoubtedly led to the kitchen. Smoke was spilling out of them, and orange flames leaped up behind the little windows. Makoto threw open the doors and searched desperately for anyone caught in the raging inferno, particularly the chef the girl outside mentioned.

His head whipped around to a corner on his right when he heard coughing. There was a man in a dirtied chef’s smock huddled on the ground.

“Hold on,” Makoto said, “I’ll get you out of here.”

He made his way over to the person collapsed in the corner. His formerly white chef’s uniform was covered in soot and ash, and Makoto noted that some parts appeared to have been burned.

Makoto kneeled next to him, looking him over. “Are you okay? Are you hurt anywhere?” he said in an urgent tone.

“Need…water…” the man rasped. “Losing…moisture…”

Makoto didn’t think any of his limbs looked to be bent in unnatural angles and didn’t see any gashes spurting blood, and since the man didn’t mention any other injuries, he assumed he was safe to pick up.

“Can you stand?” Makoto asked.

The man nodded feebly.

Makoto slung his arm around his shoulder and slowly stood up. The dark-haired man was overtaken by a fit of coughing and he started to slink back to his knees. The other firemen burst into the kitchen at that moment and let loose the pressurized water, filling the room with the hissing dying sounds of the flames. Even though the fire was being promptly put out, Makoto didn’t want to waste any more time getting the man out of there, so he scooped up his legs and quickly carried him through the doors and out of the little restaurant.

He didn’t really know what he expected when he picked up the smaller man, but it certainly wasn’t the solid form and weight that he had. Not that Makoto saved many chefs from fires, but he had just stereotyped them as more soft and squishy, if not more on the pudgier side, given their profession and all. But the coughing man in his arms then by no means felt soft in any manner of the word. No, he felt strong and…Makoto chastised himself. This certainly was no time to be thinking of things like that. Why the thought had even crossed his mind while he was running through a smoking and burning restaurant he had no idea.

He spared a moment to look down at the one in his grasp. He had stopped coughing, and he seemed to be staring hazily up at Makoto. His dark hair lay messily on his forehead and over his eyes. Makoto smiled through his mask and comforted, “Don’t worry, we’re almost outside. Then some paramedics will see to you and get you that water.”

Makoto thought he saw the man give a small smirk at that, which made his own smile linger a little longer than it would have otherwise.

They escaped into the fresh air. Makoto made his way over to where paramedics had a bed set up and gently lay the man on it. Paramedics suddenly buzzed around him and pushed Makoto out of the way. He heard the same girl from earlier call out the chef’s name. When he looked in her direction he saw a policeman holding her back and a couple other people come to her side, seeming to urgently be telling her something. Her face dropped and she stopped trying to fight the man holding her back, but she continued craning her neck to attempt to see what was going on.

Makoto took off his mask and turned back to the man he’d plucked from the flames, dancing around the paramedics who were seeing to him. He just wanted to make sure that he was okay. His eyes fell on his chapped lips, making him remember the man’s earlier request.

“Get him some water, quickly!” called Makoto.

The man on the gurney heavily turned his head and looked gratefully at Makoto.

“Yes…” he croaked. “Water…please…”

A paramedic barked at him, “Sir, please don’t strain your voice. Just let us do our jobs.”

Makoto thought he saw the man roll his eyes at that and he had to hold back a chuckle.

“I’m going to go over there and tell that young lady, who seems very concerned about you, that you’re all right,” Makoto informed. He started to turn, but then stopped suddenly and inquired, “He is all right, isn’t he?”

“There doesn’t seem to be anything serious wrong,” the other paramedic replied.

The croaky voice from the gurney added, “I’m fine. I just need water.”

“Sir,” the testy paramedic warned.

Makoto nodded, once again holding back laughter, and glanced once more at the chef who was smirking at him again. Makoto hadn’t noticed in the restaurant, but he had brilliant blue eyes—the way you imagine water looks in fairytales. Makoto smiled back before turning and walking over to the girl.

The girl saw Makoto walking over. She bounced impatiently and waited for Makoto to reach her.

“Is he okay? Oh my god please tell me he’s all right.”

“He’s fine, no need to worry,” Makoto assured, offering a comforting smile. “Just a couple burns and a throat that’s going to be hurting over the next few days. But he’ll be just as he was soon enough.”

She seemed relieved to hear that and, letting out a sigh, relaxed.

“Phew, thank god. Thank you for going in and saving him.”

“Don’t mention it, really.”

She added, “Fire isn’t exactly his element. The natural enemy of water and so the natural enemy of him,” she laughed, the way people do when trying to ease a tense situation.

Makoto scrunched his eyebrows and smirked. “Right, okay, well I just thought you’d like to know how he was. You seemed extremely concerned about him. Is he family or…?”

“He may as well be,” she smiled. “While I was in cooking school we went out and worked as apprentices in various restaurants, and I was assigned to the Holy Mackerel!. After I graduated, Chef Haru offered me a job and I’ve been working here ever since. He’s taught me more about cooking fish than school ever did.” She laughed. “He’s my mentor and one of my best friends.”

Makoto smiled. _So, she isn’t his girlfriend…_

“Anyways,” she said, standing up straighter, “thanks again.”

“You’re welcome. I’m glad he and everyone else is okay,” Makoto said sincerely.

Makoto turned back and examined the scene. The others had seemed to have taken care of the fire. Policemen were now gathering around and were assessing the scene, questioning firemen and employees. Makoto looked for his chef and saw he was now sitting up, blissfully gulping down a bottle of water. The grouchy paramedic was yelling something at him, probably telling him to slow down and not to chug the entire bottle of water.

Makoto walked over to him. He stopped next to the gurney and placed a hand on his hip.

“So how are you holding up?” he grinned.

The man’s lips parted from the bottle and he gasped in a breath of air. He wiped away a bead of water that had dripped down his chin.

“Much better,” he responded, his voice already sounding better, “now that I have water. I never want to experience such a dehydrating experience ever again.”

Makoto chuckled. “Are you some kind of health and water nut?” he wondered, remembering that weird comment about fire being his natural enemy the young woman had made.

The man’s eyes narrowed, somewhat offended.

“I guess if you want to call me a ‘water nut’ then you wouldn’t be completely wrong...”

Makoto’s eyebrows furrowed in amusement as he continued to smile.

“Oh! You’re a water nymph!” he exclaimed, proud to have figured it out, pointing at him. “Or a merman!”

“You got me!” the man croaked, raising his hands up. “I’m a merman, yes.”

Makoto tilted his head, closing his eyes and laughing. When he opened his eyes, he became stuck in some sort of trance, hypnotized by those shining blue eyes and frazzled ebony hair.

“Say,” started the man before he coughed, attempting in vain to regain his full voice. “Do you make it a habit to casually chat with those you’ve saved from hot, dry heat?”

“Hot heat?” Makoto laughed. “Um, well, no…not usually. Only when—“

“Tachibana!” a commanding voice shouted. 

Makoto’s head shot up and his eyes widened, shocked, as he was brought back into what was going on around him. He saw his captain next to the truck, motioning him over to help roll the hoses back in and to be prepared when it was time to leave.

“Oh, well I guess I better get going. I’m Makoto Tachibana, by the way.” Makoto held his hand out.

He looked down at Makoto’s hand, his eyes narrowed in amusement.

“Haruka Nanase,” the other man rasped in return, taking his hand and shaking it. “You can just call me Haru, though. And you should stop by the restaurant whenever we get it back up and running. I’ll have to prepare something special for my hero.”

Makoto looked away and smiled sheepishly, feeling himself blush a bit. He reached his hand up and began rubbing the back of his neck.

“Yeah, maybe I will,” Makoto grinned as he looked back up at Haru. “See you around then?”

“I better.”

Makoto bit his lip, smiling, and then waved, heading back to work. As he walked back to the truck, he looked over his shoulder and spotted Haru watching him as he walked away. His grin widened, though he suddenly became acutely aware of the way he was walking. He tried not to walk like a complete idiot, but he was so focused on how he was walking that he didn’t even notice a hose draped across his path and so he consequently tripped over it. He stumbled and furiously fought to regain his balance. One of his coworkers near him saw him trip and exclaimed as Makoto began his demise. He remained on his feet, though felt thoroughly embarrassed. His coworker asked if he was okay, and Makoto felt his face burn with embarrassment, which only ignited even further as he tossed a glance back at Haru and saw him wearing an expression that was surely him fighting back laughter of some kind.

“I’m fine, I’m fine,” Makoto stammered. “Now, what do I need to help with?”

Makoto helped clean up the scene. He kept looking subconsciously over towards Haru. Every time he looked over he swore Haru was drinking a new bottle of water. Various people came up and spoke to him. The police were writing things down and his colleagues from Holy Mackerel! were at last able to go over and talk to him. Eventually Haru was loaded into an ambulance with a couple others to go to the hospital for a final look over, much to Makoto’s regret.

Makoto spotted one of his friends from high school, Sousuke, standing off to the side. Sousuke had become a cop after school, and so they ran in to each other fairly often. Makoto waved to him, and Sousuke gave one of his cool nods.

“How’s it going, Sousuke?” Makoto greeted.

“Hey, Tachibana.”

“So, how long do you think it’ll be before this place is open again?” Makoto asked, nodding towards the brick building.

His friend raised an eyebrow in questioning. “Um…I don’t know. A couple months maybe? The only damage done was in the kitchen, so I guess it just depends on how quickly the owners can get people out here to fix it up and replace appliances. Why?”

“No particular reason, really,” Makoto tried to brush off. “Just curious.”

“Uh-huh,” Sousuke said, obviously not buying it. “It wouldn’t happen to have anything to do with that chef-guy you saved from the raging hellfire, would it?” he questioned, adding dramatic emphasis to ‘raging hellfire.’

“Are you mocking me?”

“Of course not,” he defended. “You did seem rather preoccupied with what was going on over by the ambulance though…”

Sousuke smirked at him and nudged him with his elbow.

 “You’re the worst…” Makoto muttered, trying to hide his smile.

Sousuke laughed. “So I’m right.”

Makoto shook his head, not able to admit anything or lie about it. “Just get back to work,” he snickered.

“Don’t tell me what to do, Tachibana,” Sousuke jokingly commanded. Then he coolly added, “He probably thought that ash on your face made you look extra sexy, too.”

Makoto’s eyes widened and he rubbed a hand across his face, sighing, irritated, at the dark smudges on his hand. When he looked at Sousuke again he was just standing there, grinning smugly.

“The worst. That is you,” Makoto reiterated.

“Did you get his number at least?” Sousuke asked.

“Wha—yeah I just real casually asked for a guy’s number at the sight of a fire, while I’m on duty. No. I did not.”

“Tch. Shame.”

_It is a shame_ , Makoto thought. But at least he knew where he would be able to find him again. Though that would take a couple months…

Makoto stood there pouting and regretting not having asked for Haru’s number—even though that would have been terribly inappropriate.

Sousuke added in, “If you really want, I could go over to the hospital and get his number for you. Policemen have all kinds of connections not available to the common man.”

“You’d walk into the hospital, find Haru, and then ask for his number for me?” Makoto asked, almost in disbelief.

“If you insisted. And if you promised to buy me a couple drinks whenever I finally get off of duty.”

Makoto laughed. “No, you don’t have to do that.”

“Maybe,” Sousuke started, a mischievous smirk creeping onto his face, “if you found some reason why you had to run over to the hospital then you could just happen to run into him…”

“Hmm…” Makoto considered, putting his hand to his mouth.

“You’re considering it, oh please do it,” Sousuke snickered.

Makoto glared at him. “Okay, all right, you know I have more important things to do than stand here and talk to you. Goodbye.”

Sousuke just continued to laugh and as Makoto walked away he called out, “Hit me up for those drinks later! And then you can tell me about your romantic hospital adventure!”

Makoto, smiling, shook his head and went back to work. There wasn’t much left to do but wait for the captain’s okay to return back to the station. So while Makoto waited he thought of ocean-blue eyes and what kind of voice Haru had when it wasn’t burned by smoke and what his hair looked like in sunlight rather than firelight and what kinds of things he did that gave him such a strong physique…

Maybe he should go to the hospital… No, that would be ridiculous. Wouldn’t it? And by the time he got back to the station and his shift ended, Haru would probably be long gone from the hospital anyways. So instead, he’d just have to content himself with thoughts of Haru and count down the days until Holy Mackerel! opened its doors to the world once again.

Or, or, he could head down to the hospital. Because, after all, he was going there to visit his great-aunt—who just happened to be in the same hospital Haru went to—just like he always did after work.


End file.
